


2:06AM

by littleli0nheart



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Depression, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Late Night Conversations, bechloe - Freeform, passive suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 20:10:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16960698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleli0nheart/pseuds/littleli0nheart
Summary: A late night phone call awakens Chloe Beale. Some things are just more important than sleep. 🕯





	2:06AM

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own Chloe or Beca (but, God, I wish I did).

Chloe stirred in her sleep, wondering why all of a sudden the opening bars of Titanium were playing in the middle of the Colosseum she was in, until suddenly she was no longer in Rome but in her dark apartment. More specifically her bed.  
  
Blinking, she yawns, glancing over to her clock on the nightstand - 2:06am? What the fuck? She realizes it was her _phone_ that she heard (which makes way more sense) and she reaches for it. Still half asleep, she runs a hand through her hair, tapping on what she hopes is the green answer button.  
  
_“Hello?”_ Voice heavy with sleep, she answers.  
  
_“Chloe..?”_ A hesitant voice responds.  
  
_“Beca? What’s wrong?”_ Concern instantly replaces the fog of sleep surrounding her and suddenly she’s wide awake.  
  
The girl on the other end of the phone swallows thickly. _“My, head’s too loud and I probably shouldn’t... um, I don’t wanna be alone.”_ Her voice is raw, honest, and very rarely does she ever sound this vulnerable.  
  
_“I’m on my way.”_  
  
Beca doesn’t even need to ask.

Chloe doesn’t bother to change out of her pajamas or even leave Aubrey a note (she’ll text her later). She just grabs her keys and slips on her shoes, heading out the door of her building.  
  
She pauses briefly to glance up at the sky and thanks every one of the countless stars up there that Beca had called her instead of dealing with _whatever it is_ by herself. She exhales a bated breath, and quickly makes her way the few buildings over, to where Beca and the rest of the freshmen dorms are located.  
  
The DJ lays awake. Her mind spinning, playing her mistakes and shortcomings like a broken record stuck on repeat, even daring to dig up some things from the past she’s long since pushed away. She gets like this sometimes, late at night, but more often than not she deals with it silently and on her own, not used to having a safe place to pour herself out.  
  
And she’s _tired_. So. Fucking. Tired. Of feeling like this.  
  
Experience has shown her, though, that when she get to this (potentially) self-destructive place, she needs to reach out for a light in her darkness. Or at least be willing to let someone in there with her.  
  
So she reached out to the only light she believed in.  
  
-  
  
Chloe stands outside her door. She doesn’t know if she should knock, or see if it’s unlocked, or if she should just text Beca and let her know that she’s here.

As if she could sense her presence, the younger girl calls out,  
  
_“Just open it, Chlo,”_  
  
When the redhead first enters the room, the first words out of her mouth are  
  
“It’s dark.” _Obviously._  
  
“Yeah, well, you should see my mind,” Beca jokes with a dry laugh.  
  
Chloe frowns, her friend’s usual sarcastic humor only making her worry grow this time. Because she’s fairly certain that the girl is _not_ exaggerating.  
  
She glances over to where the DJ’s roommate should be sleeping, but instead she finds the bed empty. She casts a confused glance over toward Beca.  
  
“She left. Took half her stuff one time and now barely ever comes back.” Beca states, trying to seem void of emotion. It wasn’t so much _Kimmy Jin_ leaving that bothered her, but more wondering why **she** always seemed to make people leave - one way or another.  
  
“Oh.” Chloe doesn’t know what to say to that. She hasn’t been here much at night, and the stoic girl was usually off somewhere else during the day when she  _was_ here.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
The redhead crosses the room to sit on the end of the younger girl’s bed. The way the light from the window beside them illuminates Beca’s face, Chloe can easily tell she’s been crying. She reaches a hand up to gently wipe away the tears on her friend’s face, causing new ones to well up in their place that the girl quickly shakes away.  
  
“I’m here, Bec, what you need?” Chloe asks. She searches the younger girl’s face for a moment, nothing but concern written across her own, before Beca shakes her head, looking up at the ceiling with another dry laugh.  
  
What she **needs** is to be _better_ ; to stop being so awkward, so annoying, so closed off. What she **needs** is to stop doing _whatever_ the hell she’s doing that drives away _every_ single _person_ in her fucking life. Is it really that _unbearable_ to be around her? Is she really not worth jack shit to _anyone_? Maybe they **wouldn’t** care if she was just _gone_ …  
  
“Beca,” Chloe gasps, taking the girl’s hands in her own. “Do you seriously believe that?”  
  
_Whoops. S_ he must have said that out loud instead of in her head.  
  
Beca looks down, turning away from Chloe to sit with her back against the wall. She crosses her arms, rubbing her hands up and down them, trying to calm herself, before exhaling a shaky breath.  
  
“Hey, talk to me. _Please_ ,” Chloe pleads with her, moving up to sit closely beside the small brunette.  
  
“I’m _trying,_ Chloe. I... It’s just everything. It’s too much. Sometimes I just—I want...” she swallows the rest of her sentence down, shaking and anxious, but trying so hard to keep it together. It’s hard enough to admit it to herself, let alone voice her thoughts to another person. (Even if that person is Chloe.)  
  
Beca **likes** life, for the most part. She does. She has dreams, aspirations, plans for the future. But _sometimes_ , she thinks...  
  
“It’s okay, love,” Chloe soothes. “I promise.” One of her hands draws comforting circles on the DJ’s back.  
  
Beca closes her eyes, trying to swallow the lump that’s formed in her throat. “Sometimes I just feel like it’d be easier if I just wasn’t… _here_ , anymore.” She confesses in barely a whisper, bringing her hands up to cover her face. She doesn’t want to see the redhead’s reaction.  
  
“ _No_.” Chloe tells her, firmly but gently. “Don’t hide yourself from me.” She takes Beca by the wrists and moves her hands away from her face, bringing one of her own up to cup the girl’s cheek.  
  
This makes the brunette finally look Chloe in the eyes, and in them Beca finds nothing but compassion and the security that she so desperately needs.  
  
“Chloe?” She asks, her voice breaking in the middle.  
  
“I’m here and I am not leaving. Tell me what you need,” Chloe breathes.  
  
Beca bites her lip.  
  
“Will you please just, _hold me_?”  
  
Her heart breaks for this girl she loves so dearly. She knows that things must really be bad if _Beca Mitchell_ is **requesting** physical contact.  
  
“Of course, Beca. Anything you need.”  
  
Chloe would give her the stars if it meant Beca would feel her worth. But physical affection _is_ Chloe’s love language, and if what Beca needs is to be held right now, then far be it from her to deny that.  
  
Chloe tells her to lay down, and then moves herself so she’s on the side closest to the wall, facing Beca, before reaching over and wrapping the smaller girl up tightly in her arms.  
  
For once in her damn life, Beca feels safe enough to let go, and she cries into Chloe’s chest as the older girl holds her close, running her fingers through Beca’s dark tresses and whispering soothing words into her ear about how  
  
She is _important_.  
She is _loved_.  
She is _valued_.  
She is _needed_.  
And the world is far better with her in it, so she better never believe these lies that tell her it’s not.  
  
And for the first time, in a long time, Beca actually **listens**.

**Author's Note:**

> (I’m aware there’s a story with some similarites that’s floating around on the interwebs. Not my intention x)


End file.
